


Iamlocked

by Madhattie1312



Category: Sherlock (TV), johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1610120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madhattie1312/pseuds/Madhattie1312
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Irene Adler case John can't stop thinking about the things she said to him about his relationship with Sherlock, and how there might have been something to what she was saying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iamlocked

John couldn't help but think about what Irene had said to him about Sherlock. How many times had John said, “I’m not gay!” Or “we’re not a couple!” And yet everyone completely disregarded and ignored what he’d said. No one had ever said something about it that made him actually think about it any deeper than that. Except her. The woman. I had once again told somebody “I’m not actually gay.” She replied “well, I am. Look at us both.” What did she mean by that? That he’s the exception? That even if I had no interest in any man on the planet ever, past or future It didn't matter because Sherlock Holmes changes everything. It made me think about my behavior over the period of that last big case. And I realized that if I were someone else looking in I might think what they were thinking too. I lost a date for him, prodded him about the text messages the morning we heard the crude ringtone go off. And like a jealous schoolgirl, I counted them and then got even more upset when I realized their contents. I began to think back further, to all the small details of cases bits of conversation that I didn't think of at the time and could read into. I felt my heart start to clench in my chest. What am I doing?! She’s got into my head! None of this matters it is all moot, we’re just good mates. Admittedly extremely close ones; I care for Sherlock but not in a romantic way! It is merely that I could not ever think of not having him in my life. I could never thank him enough for what he has done for me. I would die to save him and if he died a piece of me would as well but…. I don’t have to be gay for my feelings to be unconditional! I’d had thoughts like this buzzing in my head for weeks and today was no exception. I had a newspaper in my hands the last ten minutes and not read a word of it. I slammed it shut and rose from my chair, dropping the paper in the bin as I walked by it pacing. My odd behavior going unnoticed by an absent Sherlock. He had been missing the last two hours, which wasn't at all surprising. I checked my phone, no messages, also very common. I continued to pace the flat trying to shake the odd feelings I had from these odd thoughts that wouldn't seem to stop swimming around in my head. The harder I tried to stop thinking about it the worse it got. Finally twenty minutes later I heard the familiar sound of feet coming up the stairs and the door opening. I had taken a seat in my chair head in my hands just minutes before and I lifted it to see Sherlock sweep in and sit in his chair across from mine. He steepled his hands under his chin and leaned over elbows on his knees. "Something has got you quite worked up." He narrowed his eyes looking at me up and down I rolled my eyes waving him off and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. He followed me, “casually dressed you haven’t yet been out today, though you have read the paper, no one has been in to introduce a new case and you haven’t been blogging. You did eat a small breakfast but not yet lunch. And walking out to grab water instead of a cup of tea. Whatever has got you so upset?”  
“A woman.”  
“A woman?” He squinted his eyes at me.  
“Yes a woman, she said something that’s burrowed into my brain and I bloody well can’t seem to get it out!”  
“I don’t understand.” He said still looking at me  
“I know, you will never understand but I will explain anyways, women say things they know will get under your skin later, more often than not because it is meant to sting and it does so because it is usually true and you are unable to stop thinking about it.” I said what I had without thinking before I said it and the full force of it hit me and made me cringe. What they say is usually true. And she said we were a couple and she told Sherlock somebody loves him the first time we met her, implying me. I felt my heart clench in my chest again and anxiety, like the feeling you get when you’re about to figure out something really important. Then I pulled myself back, quickly. No! I must do something anything to get out of my head this is ridiculous! I heard Sherlock pipe into my thoughts  
“Well that is both stupid and a waste of my time, I will let you in on a solution that is rather obvious. If there is something in your head you do not want to think about. Stop. Thinking. About. It.” He enunciated every word then turned on his heel to go back into his chair, flopping into it and talking to himself. “Really of all the useless things, women and relationships. Would have been better if someone had died.” he picked up his violin and started playing a quick and staccato piece of music that reflected his annoyed mood. I watched as he played, his talent never ceased to amaze me. Before long my nerves were calmed and obviously so were his, because the song he played afterwards was slower and sweeter. I was in my chair by this time and just sat there, eyes closed enjoying the music. I felt like I could sit there forever contentedly listening to Sherlock play. I opened my eyes, I rested my head on my right hand, I tried to observe him the way he observed me only moments before. As usual he had gone out with coat and scarf, hastily removed after he got home. He was wearing a purple button up shirt he favored with a pair of black trousers. His shoes were muddied, but he hadn't been on a case otherwise he would have told me about it brought me along. But then maybe not, he has done things without me before without my knowledge until after the fact. No food stains, he probably hasn't eaten yet and won’t until tonight. But there is something in his pocket. Not his phone, and not the pointed edges of a cigarette box. It hit me suddenly. “Have you been to see some of your homeless network this morning?” He quit playing abruptly but kept the violin under his chin. “No.why?”  
“Where have you been this morning Sherlock?” I looked at him sternly. He stood up and walked over to the window putting the violin down nearby and put his hands behind his back one lightly grasping the other. He kept his face to the window as he replied “just to run some errands that is all.”  
“What kind of errands?”  
“The personal kind.” He enunciated personal paused and then asked “what business is it of yours anyways?”  
“What business is it of mine?” This hit a nerve and I started to raise my voice as I said “I do believe it is MY business when my flat mate lounges around the flat all week high as a bloody kite that’s why! You KNOW how I feel about it!” By the end of it I was out of my chair. He turned to face me his face impassive as always hands still calmly behind his back. “Come now John, where would you get an idea like that? It’s been a very long time since I've done anything like that.” The corners of his mouth lifted into a slight, innocent smile.  
“Well let’s see now, you've got very dirty shoes for such a nice sunny day, it hasn't rained the past couple of days either which means you've been on a rather dirty side off town. Which usually is the case when you've been around to see your homeless network either on a case or for pay. But you've already admitted you hadn't seen them today, which means you've gone to that side of town to get drugs. Drugs, which you haven’t even bothered to take from your trouser pockets yet, I know it is neither your phone nor a pack of cigarettes so take it out and show me it isn't what I say it is if you are telling the truth. I thrust my hand out towards him, palm open. But the look of defeat was plain on his face. His smile dropped into a frown over the course of my speech. He looked at my hand, reached into his pocket and lifted out a little baggy. He threw it up in the air and caught it in his hand, then returned it to his pocket. I dropped my hand to my side. I was so disappointed; it started to quickly mingle with my anger. After a moment of silence he burst out laughing. It made me even angrier I glared the question at him. “Oh John, have you not noticed what you've done? You've caught me using my own methods! Oh this is brilliant! Here” he said as he gripped the baggy out of his pocket and tossed it at me. I caught it, confused. He flopped down in his chair, “that was enough to keep me amused for a while, perhaps I should make a game of it and do it more often to see if you can keep making correct observations.” He grinned wildly, one that I usually could not help but to grin with. Not this time. I was not amused. This was not a game and neither am I. I knew I should be vainly flooded with pride at what I had managed or that Sherlock was even remotely impressed but I couldn't. I was pissed, I am worried about his well being, even the smartest man on the planet can overdose. Nothing is perfect, bad things happen all the time with drugs even if you think you know your limit or you’re being safe. And he would just as easily put all that on the line because he was bored. “No.” I shook my head. “What?” His brow creased in confusion. “No, if this was important enough to lie to me about keep it.” I tossed it back at him. “I hope it keeps you good company the next few days.” I grabbed a few necessities very quickly. My mobile, my keys and my coat, without even looking back I walked out the door. Knowing Sherlock was in the habit of following me I made the most ridiculous amount of taxi and bus stops imaginable so he wouldn't be able to find me. I finally paid, in cash for two days in a hotel. And there I sat, alone in a strange room by myself seething. By the time I calmed down I realized I might be over reacting, but I couldn't help it. It was one thing to have done it, it just made it worse when he tried lying about it. I heard an echo in my head “look at us both.” Indeed. Look at me, throwing a fit and leaving the house like a scorned lover. And now I have to go through with staying to make a point. I sat in the bed and leaned my head against the headboard. Maybe this was good, maybe with all the thoughts and anxiety about what the woman had said I should be away for a little while. Get my head on straight and start thinking about other girls instead of acting like one myself. My phone vibrated beside me.  
Got a case meet me there. SH  
It had a street address that followed. It was tempting but I am determined to stand my ground. I put the phone down and turned on the telly, scrolling through the stations. I set it on something and watched it for about twenty minutes before the mobile vibrated again.  
Now. SH  
Part of me wanted to text back, the other part wondered if he could track me if I responded. Probably. He may even be able to do it without, who knows. The thought made me paranoid and I took the battery out of my phone and set all the pieces of it on the nightstand beside me. The hours went by horrifically slow. By the time I was about ready to go to bed I was just itching with the need to check my phone. I should have just gone on the case, if for nothing else the distraction. I popped the battery back in my phone and checked it, six unread messages.  
False alarm the butler did it SH  
Come home SH  
I’m bored SH  
Mrs. Hudson made dinner SH  
It’s passable SH  
I’m sorry John SH  
The last one gave me knots. He had never apologized. To anyone. Ever. Now I was the exception. I instantly wanted to go home, I wanted to see Sherlock. Have I ever longed for a girl the way I long to be back at 221 B with him right now? The question hit me so fast I started thinking of the answer instead of just shaking it off. My heart started to thump harshly in my chest. I thought and thought. No. I hadn't. “Oh, God oh God, Oh God.” I jumped off the bed and started pacing the room. This is not happening to me. THIS. Is not. Happening. To me. My breathing increased and my heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest. I’d never needed anyone. Like I needed Sherlock. I had never wanted to be with someone like I wanted to be around him. I loved to watch him work, to watch him play the violin, to do experiments in the kitchen. I even loved it when he was moody and broodish, throwing little fits and shooting at the wall, complaining about my blog, about everything and everyone. And holy hell I’m in love with Sherlock Holmes. I leaned against a wall and skidded down. I rested my head on my knees and tried taking deep breaths to calm my trembling. I said it over and over again in my head waiting for it to sound wrong. But it didn't. What the hell am I suppose to do now? The immediate and correct response is nothing. There’s nothing I can do now. He cares about me, I know that but he just can’t think of people in romantic terms. I think he came close with Irene, but he even though he could have he never went for it. Do I just shove these feelings to the side and pretend they haven’t happened? Won’t that start to hurt eventually? Could I just keep dating as I have been and hope I find someone I could spend my life with? Preposterous. I wanted to spend it with him, doing what we do. I love my unofficial job, and no woman has been able to put up with him so far, why would I ever hope that I could find one? And it would be wrong, even if I could love someone else wouldn't it be wrong to love like I do now behind their backs, even worse knowing it just wouldn't add up? Because I know it won’t. Even though I just realized it, every repressed romantic feeling I had towards him came back full force and fell on me like a plane from the sky. I sat there for a long time thinking back. How long have I loved him? It didn't just start tonight out of nowhere. As much as I thought about it I couldn't pinpoint a single given moment. I just knew it had been a long time now. I had a million questions buzzing through my head. So many what ifs and whens and how’s but eventually I made myself get up and go to bed. Though I wasn't anymore inclined to sleep in it than out of it. It was going to be a hell of a day tomorrow, I'm suppose to go see him now that the very thought of eyes catching mine made my heart beat feverishly. God help me.

When I woke up I felt a weight on my chest so heavy, I was sure it wouldn't let me get up. But up I got and home I went. I stood in front of 221 B for ten minutes before I mustered up the courage to go inside. And when I put all my things down I found him curled up on the couch in an angry little ball. He abruptly turned over. “I lied, I am not in least sorry!” He tromped to his chair and pulled the bag out of his robe pocket. He was getting ready to use when he looked up at me. Whatever he saw made him stop. “John you look absolutely wrecked, are you all right?” I completely ignored the question. I didn't know how to answer it.  
“I’m sorry about yesterday Sherlock, it’s hard for me to understand what you’re going through in your head and I know you need something to help sometimes. I’m just worried about you, it’s why I get so upset about it.”  
“Though I appreciate that, you didn't answer the question.” He got up and walked towards me, I backed away. “Please don’t.” He stopped “What?”  
“Please don’t try to observe or deduce this one I beg of you. I didn't answer because quite honestly I don’t know how it’s-it’s hard to explain and I wouldn't want to anyway just, please let this one go.” He looked a little puzzled.  
He can’t know. He can never ever know. I would not risk destroying what we have over it. I have no idea how he’d take it and even if he took it well it would make things awkward regardless and I couldn't live with that. I want things to stay exactly as they are; they’re perfect that way. My chest ached, it hurt knowing he could never know but that’s how it has to be. My face was pleading. His expression softened he just nodded and turned back to the room where he picked up his violin and started to play something calming. I knew he was doing it for me, it’s the only way he knew how to comfort me. But it worked and I was grateful. I went to the table where he left his paraphernalia and I tossed the bag down the toilet. He never tried to stop me or made a show of noticing I did it, though I know he did.  
Over the course of the next few weeks I tried to act as normal as possible but there were small things that changed. I just made sure they were things he didn't see. Like when he was on a case I’d stand back and notice all the little things he did. Of course I was always in awe of his abilities, but I also enjoyed noticing the way he frowned when he was thinking or the way he talked to himself and paced the room. The look of concentration he got as he steepled his hands under his chin to think. I especially loved the expressions he made the second he figured something out. I never hesitated to ask him to play something for me just so I could watch him play, and admire him from across the room. Sometimes I tried to find things about his features that make him less perfect. But even if I found one, it somehow just added to him. He only ever caught me doing it once; he just thought I was staring off, thinking. So ignorant, thank God. It helped that he didn't notice things like that when they were happening to him, just everyone else. I wouldn't say that I fell in love with him more everyday but rather I just kept finding out another reason why I loved him so much. Most of the time it made me happy, but occasionally I had dark days, days where I was ungrateful and pissed that this was all I would ever get. And on those days I feigned errands or a date so he wouldn't deduce it out of me. And then it would pass. On one such day I had been snippy all afternoon and verging on losing my temper over insignificant things. I threw on my coat and grabbed my keys. “I’ll be home late”  
“Going on a date?” He asked without looking up from his microscope. “Yes, I may be gone the night.”  
“Interesting” he still didn't look up.  
“Why’s that?”  
“You forgot the shoes.”  
The what?”  
The shoes, the shoes you always wear on dates. You've forgotten them.”  
“Oh right, right” I went to my room to change them. Thank you” I smiled and headed for the door.  
“John are you sick?” Sherlock finally looked up as he asked the question. I was shocked, where was this coming from and now. I scoffed “no, I’m not sick”  
“So you’re not dying?”  
“What? No, where is this coming from?”  
He ignored the question “drugs then?”  
He was really pushing my buttons now. “No! I’m not doing anything I’m not supposed to!”  
“Then why has every date you've been on since the Adler case been a lie?”  
I felt my stomach tighten into knots. Shit. I was caught and I thought I had been so careful. I went with the only piece of advice I could think of about lying. It came from my sister, deny, deny, deny. They can’t do anything if you just keep adamantly saying it never happened. “Why would you say that?”  
“John have you forgotten what it is I do for a living, surely I can tell when you've been lying to me. I observe, and what I've observed is that there is nothing about you that indicates you've been on a date.”  
“I know, I've made sure of it. I purposely change things around about myself before I come home so you can’t deduce me, it’s irritating.”  
He sighed “John I've followed you.”  
“And?”  
“And I know you are lying.”  
“ You, have absolutely no right to meddle in my personal affairs. But since you already have then you also know what I am doing, and that it is nothing to warrant this interrogation!”  
“The only reason to lie is because you’re hiding something. If you simply wanted to go out and be alone you could have just told me that, instead you've been going on pretend dates, where you go to a pub and drink yourself stupid. Or worse you wander John, hands in your pockets, head down and just wander. You look so hurt and lost and…and I’m worried.” His expression sent daggers into my heart. But I can’t tell him, I know I can’t. I sighed heavily and jingled my keys. He just kept looking at me with that expression of concern. I bet no one had ever seen this look before. It was probably a new feeling for him, it should flatter me, instead it made my chest want to shatter like glass. I couldn't be here anymore; I needed to leave, now.  
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out eventually you know I will.”  
“Well it took me ages, so good luck.”  
“It took you ages?”  
“Yea to figure out.”  
He steepled his hands under his chin.  
“No! I am not giving you clues here! I asked you NOT to do this! Please Sherlock; please if you care for my well being or peace of mind, at all. STOP!”  
He looked surprised and dropped his hands, “I’m just trying to help-“  
“You cannot help with this! There is literally NOTHING you can do! I am begging you Sherlock truly begging. Leave this one alone. I could not bear it if you knew!” I had to look away pain and fear and anger were mingling together in dangerous cocktail. I felt my lip quiver and turned towards the door. Oh God, the pain in my chest was crippling. I could not bear this, another step towards the door and I was close enough to open it, I grabbed it with my trembling hand and swung it open and stepped out. “Wait! John! He bounded out of the chair and came up behind me very quickly gripping my shoulders making me turn around. He saw the pained expression on my face, his brow furrowed together and a second went by and then I saw the instant it hit him, he knew. It was written all over his face. All I could see was the shock he was just frozen. Something inside of me broke, a tear spilled over and fell down my cheek I pulled out of his grip and ran down the stairs, out the front door and down the street, up an alley and sank down to the ground. The dam of every fear I had, had burst open and come crashing down on me. I felt like my insides had just been ripped apart. The tears streamed down and I put my head on my knees to stifle the sound of my sobs, I wrapped my arms around my knees like it was the only thing holding me together. And for quite a long time I’m sure it was. But eventually the tears stopped, and I just felt hollowed out. What do I do now? I need to go home, but I do not think I could bear to see the expression on his face once he saw me. I’ll just wait; maybe he’ll be asleep if I wait long enough. I didn't want to think about all the what’s that came after that though, so I didn't. It must have been one in the morning before I started the walk back. It wasn't actually all that far from the flat. I tried to go up the steps as silently as possible, and then I stood outside the door. And I couldn't bring myself to go in. So I sat down beside the door, in the hallway, like I had in the alley. Another couple lone tears fell silently down my face as I sat. I wiped them away with my sleeve and tried to calm down, inhaling deeply to stop any more from coming. Then out of nowhere I saw it in front of me, on the floor. A very familiar shoe, with a very familiar coat hanging over it, I couldn't move, I didn't know what to do, I felt my heart speed up double time though. I was so scared. He moved past me towards the door and opened it. I heard him get on the phone and dial. “Yea Lestrade, I found him, it’s fine now. Thanks.”  
“Come in John.”  
I did as he said. I got up and walked in and shut the door. I turned around but kept my eyes glued to the floor like a child waiting to hear their punishment. I saw his feet walk away to my chair. I looked up, as he was faced the other way. He untied and removed his scarf and took off his coat laying them across the arm of the chair. He turned and my eyes immediately dropped back down to the floor. He strode over to me and lifted my face up by my chin. He looked absolutely pissed, I braced for the worst. “Don’t you EVER. Do that again do you understand?” Before I could process anything he grabbed me tightly and wrapped his arms around me. At first I was frozen, then I wrapped my arms around his waist as tightly as I could without actually crushing his slender frame. “Oh John, Oh John, Oh John.” He breathed into my hair. “How could you have possibly ever thought anything you could ever say or do would make me think less of you?” New tears stung my eyes, of any reaction I could have ever thought of this would never have been one of them. “Things were perfect as they were, I didn't want to make it awkward, and I knew you could never feel that way about me.”  
“Once again you see, but do not observe. Of course I feel that way about you John, when I have I ever said or done anything to contradict that?”  
“You've always said sentiment was a disadvantage. And honestly I didn't think you were capable of thinking of a relationship on romantic terms.”  
“I couldn't.” He let go enough to bring his hand back to my chin and lift it up. “Until I met you. You are the exception to every rule and guideline I've made my entire life, I've just found an alternative way to handle my emotions.”  
He looked down at me fiercely, blue eyes shining and put his forehead against mine grinning. “ I Love you John Watson. I have always, and will always love you.” I put my hand around his neck and reached up the short distance to his lips and lightly pushed mine against his. He didn't hesitate to kiss me back and after a moment he pulled away slightly but then came back even harder, pulling me in even closer so our bodies were completely pushed together. I felt his hot breath on my lips and it was sweeter than anything I'd ever tasted. I wound my hands into his curls, his hands gripped into my sweater in response. I could feel him warring with pulling away and wanting more, but in the end it was over after only a few short minutes. He lifted a trembling hand to by cheek and caressed it. He laid his forehead against mine as we both stood taking shaky breaths. He was quiet for a few minutes, then finally he grabbed my hand and lead me over to the couch where he sat down and brought me down next to him. He looked at the floor then at me then back at the floor. He was about to tell me something I wasn't going to like. My stomach was all knots while the silence spread between us. "As happy as I am about this, I had always hoped you'd never figure out how you felt, because it would save me the pain of having to do this."  
"Wait you, mean, you already knew?"  
"Of course I knew John, but I buried it away along with my feelings so it wouldn't distract or tempt me long ago, that't why I didn't recognize it while it was happening the last few weeks." He paused sighing. "John, I meant what I said I will always love you, but the work…” it took a moment before comprehension dawned on me. He's saying he can't have both. A part of me was heartbroken, the other part understood completely. I tugged his hand to get make him look up at me “I’ll be here Sherlock, by your side always I promise. I will never abandon or give up on you.I will take you in whatever way you can give. I can’t promise there won’t be days like today, where I’m feeling selfish and ungrateful but I will find a better way to cope. It will probably be easier now that you know.” He looked away again, I could feel his trembling get worse.  
That is the part I was hoping you could forgive me for the most."  
I was confused "what?"  
You see after tonight I won’t remember this. I won’t delete it, that I can promise. I would never do that…but I’m going to store it away. So far away that I won’t have a recollection of it unless I actually go search for it. I know it’s a cheat and I am sorry that you will be the one left with it, I know how hard that will be on you, but it's the only way I'll be able to keep working. I can't have the distractions or the temptation, it could throw a whole case. All it takes is missing the smallest detail because I was thinking of you instead. I’m really sorry John.” He looked up at me, his expression pleading that I understand. It broke my heart seeing him in that kind of pain. " I understand, truly I do Sherlock." I managed a smile "as I said before, I will take you in any way I can, no matter the circumstances." He looked into my eyes for a minute, searching for a lie hidden there, but there was none. I meant what I said entirely, I was starting to feel more and more at peace with it. And when he was satisfied that I wasn't lying, he grabbed me and kissed me and once again leaned his forehead against mine closing his eyes. "I do not deserve you." he paused for a moment and pulled away looking me in the eyes “I do want you to know, if you ever…find anyone else…please don’t let them get away on account of me. You’re happiness means more to me than anything else, and I don’t want you to ever. Ever. Feel guilty if it happens. I will accept it, it goes both ways, I would rather have you in my life in any way I can get than not have you at all. Please don’t ever hold back because of me, I can make you no promises and I can’t give you things somebody else could.” I nodded my head in assent. I did not think it was a legitimate possibility, but if it made him feel better for me to agree to it, I would. “I don’t think it’s likely, but I will do as you ask. Just know this, know that if I ever love someone again, it will not be like the love I have for you. Nothing could ever measure up to this. If I was ever made to choose between you and anything else in this world, I would always choose you.” He smiled “I know, John.” He grabbed me and pulled me into his chest, we put our legs up on the couch. “When I wake up tomorrow, tell me that I went out yesterday morning and got drugs. Tell me it was cut with something else, and that you took it to Molly and to confirm it. When I go to ask her she will tell me, she’s already in on this plan. It would have been something that will have made me sleep for an extensive period of time and forget approximately the last forty-eight hours, which will cover up this time slot nicely. I will believe this story because all of the bases are already covered. I've set it all up so all you have to do is tell me that one little bit. I will wake up exactly twelve hours from now, that will give you enough time to get up from the couch after you've woken and get back into your morning ritual.” I nodded, and he responded with “good.” He began to lightly caress his hand up and down my back, it didn't take long before it started making me sleepy, after such a long day I knew I wasn't going to be able to be awake much longer so I tilted my head up to look at him, one last really good look at that expression, so on my dark days I remember. I remember that I’m the exception. That Sherlock Holmes loves me, just me, unconditionally, and he always will. And that’s why I’ll stay by him forever, because I feel exactly the same way. I felt my lids get heavy, and with the last bit of energy in me I said “I’ll always love you Sherlock Holmes.” It was partially muffled into his chest. He smiled so it lit up his eyes “ I’ll always love you John Watson.” He kissed the top of my head and I heard the sound of his heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath me and then I was lost to a world of peaceful dreams.  
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Sherlock watched as John slept, and he never knew what humanity meant by the phrase heartbreak. And now he knew, but soon he would forget. These feelings had no place in his head, they were unorganized, illogical, distractions where his mind needed the utmost concentration and yet… He looked down John’s peaceful face, he could almost imagine a life where he could feel this way about John, openly. A life where he could steal all the kisses he wanted and embrace him after a long day of stagnation. To spend a life with him, like a normal person. But I wasn't normal. I am me, and that is Sherlock, and I must complete my work. I must get in as many cases as possible before my brief life is extinguished. I could not bear the thought of something challenging slipping through my fingers, or that a major disaster happened because I turned down a case. I would never admit it to anyone, but in a remote way I care about what happens to this beloved city, and therefore, the people in it. I stayed awake watching him sleep there until the sun came up, I took one last look down at him and leaned my head back against the arm of the couch and concentrated. I went into my mind palace, to the farthest end, in the east wing, the last door on the right. I turned the knob and walked in. And a group of Johns doing different things, were holographs playing in loops over and over again all around the room. My favorite moments with him, moments I treasured great or small, some were so small they would seem almost inconsequential to anybody else . But every one of them were priceless to me. I held the one I had of tonight in my hands, a little glowing sphere I released into the room. And there it was in front of me. The fight, John running, me searching, finding him, kissing him, holding him. I walked into the moving picture and I was there again hearing John say “I will always love you Sherlock Holmes.” I replayed it and listened again, I would never tire of hearing him say that, but I needed to go. I needed to keep on schedule. I walked out of the holograph, and with a heavy heart turned to walk towards the door. Eventually when a day comes that I feel hopeless, or lost, or so beyond humanity I feel what little I have slipping away from me, this is where I’ll come. I’ll come and remember that I do what I do for a reason and it is worth it. It is worth the loss it will cost me and it is worth missed opportunities and it is everything to me. And someday maybe later, maybe when there is less need of me, I’ll come here and I’ll let all the Johns loose from this room and remember. But realistically when will there be a world that doesn't need Sherlock Holmes? I felt the heat of a tear roll down my cheek and left locking the door behind me.


End file.
